CHAPTER TWO // day of the fall.
THE SHOW MUST NOT GO ON!

Okay. I'm about to seriously call Scarlett out. Sorry Scar, love you.

Your Aunt Scarlett is so not who she used to be anymore. I didn't like her much at first, although I'm sure you would've, just because I didn't. Little smart ass. But Scarlett was different then, because life before the fall was still pretty fresh and her aunt hadn't been as good to her as she has been to you.

It is a messy, sad, long, complicated fucking story.

I know you've heard things in passing about her old life at this point, but Scarlett did really used to be one of the most famous actors in the world before the fall. You were raised on telenovelas though, and Scarlett is the whitest fucking person around, so you didn't realize when you first met her. Carmen knew who she was and almost shit her pants, though. I'm not sure if you remember that. In your little eyes, something like a movie star is cool. A dream life for a dream girl. She's this rich, beautiful lady who has a job that seems perfect on paper. A lot of kids want to grow up and be on the big screen. Not you, of course. You wanted to be an astronaut, or a marine, or something involving getting your hands dirty. You were like me that way. But Carmen, and mom, and Nicole and Gabriela all would've killed to do what Scarlett used to do.

But Hollywood was not all it was cracked up to be. At all. Scarlett's life before was honestly maybe more of a nightmare than it is now, and with all the years that have passed, I don't think she'd mind me saying that.

Scarlett played a lot of different parts in her time as an actor. She played warriors who wore combat boots (not as cool as mine) and studded leather gloves. Princesses whose breathtaking dresses trailed endlessly on the sparkling palace floor behind her. She'd played politicians meaner than the devil, with lipstick redder than blood. There were beach bums, geeks, jealous psychopaths, and the occasional kind-hearted world-changer. But she played none as much as the damsel in distress. It seemed that no matter what, she always ended up back in the shoes of a feeble, incapable, in-need-of-rescuing woman with no personality and the IQ of a wet sock.

She would never complain, though. Ever. She knew that the recurring portrayal of the predictable and pointless characters stemmed straight from the fact that it mirrored flawlessly who she was when the cameras weren't rolling.

I kind of have this hunch that it was her lifelessness that had caused Hollywood to fall in love with her in the first place. She was a blank canvas. Directors could do anything they wanted with her and she would listen like a sheep.

I know this probably sounds harsh, or offensive, but it was simply her way of life, and I'm trying to paint you a picture.

Scarlett's (evil, sadist, cash-hungry) aunt (who you've probably never heard her talk about) got legal guardianship of her really early on. It kind of just fell in her lap when her parents died. Freak boating accident. She was only like 3. But her aunt was not fit for a caregiver, and basically forced little Scarlett to become her own personal cash cow.

Her world had revolved around red carpets and showing off on talk shows for as long as she could remember, which is likely why she had never once been alarmed by the way all charisma drained from her body the second they called cut. The sparkle in her eyes was only available when she was pretending to be someone else. Pretending to be someone else was all she knew how to do.

It wasn't until the world ended did she actually start to learn what it meant to be something other than what everyone expects of you. More than a fucking silver screen persona.

Pretty ironic that it took the dead rising for her to finally feel alive, huh?

     Scarlett stared blankly into the mirror, directly into the eyes of the expressionless face staring right back. Bulb lights framed the extravagant glass in true Hollywood fashion, their bright reflection casting glowing halos in her olive irises. She sat perfectly still as multiple sets of busy hands prepared her for the shoot today, lips being painted a vivid ruby red while her hair was transformed into flawless waves cascading down her back.

"Earth to Scarlett, hello? Are you even listening?"

Raising her brows and blinking tiredly, she looked over to the slender-framed man sitting beside her; eyes wide beneath his round glasses as he clutched onto his clipboard. "Hm?"

"Stop zoning out. We have a lot to get through today." he shook his head, glancing back down at the dozens of pages he was swiftly flipping through.

"Sorry." she softly apologized, voice barely audible.

Normally, no one would dare speak to her in such a way. She was so highly esteemed in the arts world that movie-makers would throw every cent to their name her direction trying to secure her as the star in their film. They would roll out the red carpet anywhere and everywhere if it meant her management team would even agree to considering letting her sign onto their project.

But Gary was different. He wasn't one of those directors or casting agencies and he didn't belong to any crew. He was her publicist, always by her side to make sure she stuck to each day's strict schedule that was laid out for her. If he didn't constantly pester her and tell her what to do and where to go, she would never make it to any of her meetings, appear on any talk shows, or ever show up to set on time. She probably wouldn't do anything at all.

Gary was hired by her aunt, of course. Nothing happened in Scarlett's life without the woman's approval and knowledge of it. Abigail Hawksley was the reason she was an actress, after all.

Scarlett's parents had died young and tragically when she was the ripe age of three, leaving her in the care of her father's older sister Abigail. She wasn't exactly sure what had prompted her aunt to begin submitting her to casting calls, but she did, almost immediately. It started out with small things— commercials, modeling gigs for children's clothing companies... innocent stuff that payed the bills. But when she started raking in more and more cash, Scarlett found herself spending endless hours inside of studios for all sorts of lessons— voice, acting, dance. Abigail signed her up for every local theatre production and every remotely similar opportunity she could find. Scarlett didn't even remember when the woman quit her job and pulled her out of school— the little girl apparently making enough for her to retire at the age of 30. It wasn't until she was seven when she truly made it in the business, though, and from then on out, it was her entire life.

"Okay, so I talked to Ron and he knows that you have to be out of here by nine tonight. I'm sure there will be delays like always, but you have a ten o'clock flight back to LA so we're not bending the rules for anyone." The sentence was almost laughable— when had they ever bent the rules? "You'll do the interview in Beverly Hills tomorrow at noon, and then you have a costume fitting and a table read in SoCal before the premiere at seven in Venice."

"I thought I had an early morning shoot here the next day?" she passively queried, no real interest in her tone; she sounded almost robotic.

"Yes, you do! Abigail already let press know that you're just coming for the red carpet photo op and not staying for the movie. You'll wear Calvin Klein. We had that fitted months ago, remember? Anyway, after that you'll take a red eye back to Atlanta and be back here before filming starts at five that morning. They only get a day, though, because then we have to be in Manhattan for—"

     The trailer door swung open, a frazzled woman with violet bags beneath her sunken eyes and a headset hanging from her neck appearing and interrupting Gary. "The equine consultant is here, Ron needs her." she gruffly announced, blowing a tendril of greasy hair from her face before slamming the door shut. Before they could do anything, she opened the door again. "Now." she yanked it closed even harsher this time.

It was standard practice for film crews to be sleep deprived, over worked, and under payed on just about any set you could think of; resulting in majority of them being ruthlessly succinct and unhappy as they went about their never-ending tasks.

Gary hurried from his seat. "Up you get, let's go."

     "Wait." a hand pressed against her shoulder when she tried to rise, keeping her sitting for a moment longer as a thick cloud of hairspray appeared around her face; Scarlett automatically holding her breath. Soon, the fog disappeared; Gary coughing and spluttering beside her. She looked up from her cushioned seat at her hairdresser, arms covered with sleeves of tattoos and piercings decorating her face. The woman gave a satisfied nod. "Now you can go." she was undeniably a smoker from her hoarse voice, her words dripping with a thick Jersey accent as she loudly smacked a piece of gum between her studded lips. She gave her a genuine smile— a kind one. "You look beautiful."

Scarlett smiled meekly at her, the corners of her lips barely curving upwards. "Thank you."

"Okay, let's get a move on." Gary rolled his eyes with a huff, ushering Scarlett out the doors and down the retractable metal steps of the trailer so fast she nearly tripped.

She squinted, eyes adjusting to the hot sun and bright light. It was not the first time she'd filmed in Georgia. Atlanta was a wildly popular and affordable spot for people to make movies. There was practically as much action there now as there still was in Hollywood. But it was the first time she'd ever filmed in such a rural location in the south there. A rolling green hills, white picket fence, winding country road kind of place.

Immediately someone was at her side and unfolding an umbrella above her head for shade. Holding it steady, the stranger walked silently alongside the duo over to Ron— the director— and a young woman Scarlett didn't know.

She had shiny chocolate hair, the ends curling upwards where she tucked her short bob behind her ears. She sure looked the part of an equine consultant... standing there in a pair of mud-splashed paddock boots with a brown cattleman hat sitting proudly upon her head. The horse next to her seemed three times her size, but she held its reigns fearlessly and stood brushing against it; not intimidated by the staggering creature at all.

     "Scarlett!" Ron waved her over with a forced grin, obviously in a rush to introduce them and move on to whatever duty was demanding his attention next. Normally he wouldn't give anyone the pleasure of politeness and social niceties, but this was Scarlett Hawksley. Anyone in the business knew the ground on which she walked was designed to be worshiped by them. "This is—"

     Before he could introduce them, the girl stuck out her hand for Scarlett to shake. "Maggie Greene, pleasure to meet you." her handshake was firm, her words accompanied by a thick southern accent. She seemed so sure of herself.

Scarlett knew better than to open her mouth and try to respond. Gary spoke for her, always, and typically with a patronizing undertone. And so her eyes trailed powerlessly up to the horse beside her instead of looking much at Maggie; a little distracted by the humongous animal. She'd never seen one in person before.

Like clockwork, Gary wedged himself into the conversation. "This is Scarlett."

     Maggie turned to shake hands with him and the man still holding the umbrella. "I'm—"

     "Maggie Greene, yup, we got it." Garry held a hand up with a curt nod, signaling for her to stop. Her face fell slightly, but her feelings didn't seem hurt.

Ron clapped his hands together and took a deep breath he never let back out. "Great! Think you can have her in tip top shape in less than an hour miss..." his voice trailed off. He'd forgotten already.

     "Greene. Yes sir." Maggie happily lifted her chin in the air.

     "Okay, great. I'll leave you to it. Thank you so much, Scarlett." No one ever stopped thanking her.

     He departed quickly, the young girl turning to Scarlett with a smile. "Alright, then. I hope this isn't unprofessional, but I was wonderin' if before we get started I can grab a quick photo? My little sister is a diehard fan of yours and if I came back home empty-handed she'd probably—"

"Scarlett doesn't participate in unpaid photo ops." Gary brusquely cut in. Maggie's eyes shifted over to him, lips parted slightly in surprise. Still, no indignation was on her features. "Forgive us if we seem brash, but Miss Hawksley is on a strict schedule. We don't have a minute to spare." He clearly wasn't sorry.

She took in his words for a few seconds before nodding and taking a breath; smiling with a small, forced— but believable— chuckle. "It's alright, I understand." She turned back to Scarlett, eyeing her up and down as politely as she could. "Is this what you're wearin' to ride?"

     It was unlike her character to typically strut around her homestead in a tight leather dress that barely covered her bottom and a pair of bedazzled boots. Normally her character dressed more like an actual cowgirl and less like a porn star. But Hollywood sells sex to use as an initial hook. And so sex she was required to sell so this movie could successfully grace the cover of every magazine across America, and hopefully score some bonus checks by selling posters of their star all done up.

     Gary and the umbrella-yielding stranger both looked mortified at her words, but Scarlett didn't seem to mind the question.

     "Sorry, I didn't mean that to be rude. It's a lovely dress, just not a dress meant for ridin'. Think they'd let you wear a pair of jeans instead?"

    Again, Gary spoke in her place. "No, sorry." he chuckled impatiently, no real humor to his tone. "All wardrobe is final. Today is just a promo shoot for the film, so there shouldn't be anything strenuous involved to begin with."

Again, the woman addressed the blonde instead of him. "Okay, well, the saddle is going to pinch your legs without—"

"All wardrobe is final." he repeated, much more sternly this time.

"Sorry, I was speakin' to Miss Hawksley." Maggie's eyes snapped back over to him with gritted teeth, tone finally a little sharp-tongued.

     It felt like divine intervention of spectacular timing when Gary's phone rang before he could respond. He yanked it from his pocket and glanced at the screen, groaning loudly. "It's Abigail. She'll behead me if I ignore her call. Be right back." He stormed off, bringing the phone to his ear.

     Maggie rested her hands on the thick belt looped through her faded jeans, rocking back on her heels once. "He always that much of an asshole?"

The actress didn't laugh at first, but when she noticed the man with the umbrella biting back a smile, she gave a soft, albeit nervous chuckle.

The warm look reappeared on the Greene girl's face when she saw Scarlett's gaze wander back to the horse. "You can pet her, if you want." she shrugged, and the woman hesitantly placed a gentle hand on the bridge of the creature's long nose. "This is Nelly. She's our best mare."

     Scarlett stayed quiet a moment longer, a minuscule smile tugging at her lips as she ran her fingers through the coarse tuft of hair sticking out from between its perked ears. "I like her bangs."

     Maggie's head dipped down as she laughed quietly, looking back up to her with a grin; it was obvious Scarlett was fine with slowing their roll now that Gary and Ron were off her back. "That's called the forelock. I reckon you haven't been around horses too much?"

     "Oh. No, I haven't." the blonde woman chuckled softly, still stroking Nelly's chestnut fur. "You do this often? Consult with actors?"

     "This is the first, actually. I was going to college in the city, but I moved back home a couple weeks ago with everythin' going on right now. My daddy didn't want me in such a populated area, so I'm finishin' up my last semester online. Had the time, and it seemed like a neat opportunity for Nelly to be in a movie, so I signed up. Been around horses all my life."

     Scarlett knew exactly what she was talking about. You'd have to be living under a rock to have not heard of it by now. There'd been a massive uptick in violent occurrences recently, and bizarre reports of cannibalistic behaviors spreading throughout the country. At first, the waves of mania had been blamed on a possible new drug rapidly blooming across the nation. But over the past week or so, doctors and scientists started declaring it some kind of disease. It was the only thing you could find on any channel.

     "How—"

     "The phones aren't working." Gary abruptly reappeared, ruining their innocent conversation as he tapped roughly against his device's screen with an irritated huff. "It dropped my call and now all I'm getting is the busy signal. I tried borrowing Melissa's phone and hers did the same. Useless." His gaze soon moved up to the two, shifting between them with knitted brows. "Why isn't she on a horse yet?" He pointed at Scarlett.

     The Greene girl willed herself to be patient— this was a job, after all; she might have to cast aside her annoyance with him. "We were just gettin' there." She turned back to the blonde with a smile. "Ready to ride?"

Maggie had been right. These clothes were the last thing Scarlett should be wearing to ride a horse. Not only was she consistently flashing everyone here, but having her legs be almost entirely bare against the constantly shifting saddle had them scratched up and chafed within minutes. Makeup artists were scurrying frantically over to cover the cumulating rashes in between each take, and Ron was unhappy about how it was all unfolding.

     "Alright, let's try this again people." he announced loudly, peering over the cameraman's shoulder from outside the small round pen Scarlett and Nelly were in.

     The only thing they were trying to accomplish right now was keeping Scarlett's thong out of the frame long enough for her to take a leisurely lap on the animal. But Scarlett didn't seem humiliated in the slightest— she didn't seem much of anything.

     The director took a deep breath, about to start giving pointers. Scarlett readied herself, tightening Nelly's reigns in her grip. But he paused when someone lower on the crew's food chain scurried over to him, whispering something into his ear. Everyone had already been silent since they were actively rolling, but now the silence was filled with tension— interrupting like that was a huge no-no. Ron's face twisted into one of ire. "Well then tell them this is a damn closed set!" Another thing was whispered into his ear, and this time, the color drained from his features as his head snapped over to the anxious crew member. "What?"

     Before he had time to explain, everyone's attention was stolen by the uproar of engines on the long twisty road. Their heads whipped over to the pavement beyond the fence, watching in disbelief as an entire brigade came rolling down the street.

Armored combat vehicles and tanks flooded the area, military choppers slicing circles through the air above; creating a major racket. Gasps and exclamations of confusion rose instantly from everyone on set, quickly turning into words of fear and worry. Scarlett watched in surprise from where she still sat on Nelly— the large creature's ears perked like she was just as intrigued by the miraculous and simultaneously terrifying scene. No one knew quite what to do.

     A booming voice came over a speaker; his tone oddly steady for someone who was delivering the kind of news he was. "WE HAVE BEEN AUTHORIZED TO IMPLEMENT LETHAL FORCE ON EVERY COMMUNITY WITHIN A 50 MILE RADIUS OF ATLANTA."

     Now there was only fear and worry.

The military had been authorized to kill innocent civilians? And what did this mean had become of Atlanta itself? As of this morning airports had been up and running— Scarlett had a ten o'clock flight to catch. What had changed in the course of a day?

     There wasn't much time to ponder these questions or digest the harrowing news, however. Within seconds, a wave of synchronized gunfire came blasting from their AFVS; the number of bullets spewing from the roads nearly incomprehensible. Scarlett blinked and half of their gigantic crew was on the ground.

Screams erupted and all hell broke loose. People abandoned all sense of reason and began shoving each other aside; making a desperate break for anywhere to escape or take shelter. It was hard to even decipher what exactly was happening in the unprecedented turmoil. Terror had taken them by storm, and it was every man for himself.

Startled, Nelly reared into the air; a jarring bray leaving her lips. The horn collided painfully with Scarlett's stomach at the sudden movement, knocking the wind from her lungs as she helplessly tumbled from the saddle. Her left foot caught in the stirrup, causing her back to hit the ground with a thud as her leg remained bound above her; tangled in all the many leather pieces. When Nelly crashed her front hooves back down into the dirt, it jerked Scarlett upwards from where the stirrup still had a hold of her; two distinct cracks echoing in the air.

     Only then did she scream. Wether it was from the blinding pain that ricocheted up her entire leg or in fear of her life, she wasn't sure.

     Another sickening wave of gunshots. Another two dozen bodies on the ground.

     Scarlett shrieked in agony as the rattled horse trotted sporadic half-circles around the small pen, dragging her along with it. With all her might, she fought to free herself; frantically reaching up to unhook her trapped limb to no avail. Her body became instantly tarnished by cuts and bruises as the horse tugged her harshly in all directions; further exacerbating the nauseating pain in her leg. Chunks of dirt and strands of her own hair were in her mouth as she spluttered and screeched, her heart thudding so furiously against her ribcage she felt lightheaded.

     Suddenly she was sure— she was going to die.

     A welcomed efflux of hope soared in her chest when she caught a glimpse of Maggie army-crawling on her stomach, pulling herself forward by her elbows as she slithered beneath the fence. Staying low to the ground, she scurried over to them and grabbed Nelly by the reigns; spouting off a few dire commands to the animal and yanking the leather until she fell quiet enough. Quickly, she was untangling Scarlett's leg from the stirrup; causing her head to spin in discomfort.

     Instantly, Maggie was pulling her up into a sitting position; observing the limb sprawled out on the dirt. It was bent in the wrong direction, but she asked anyways. "Can you move it?" the words rushed from her lips— they didn't have time to spare.

     "No." Scarlett fervently shook her head, hair a mess and lipstick smeared across her face as she tilted her head back and groaned through gritted teeth.

     More gunfire.

     Instinctively, the two women flattened themselves on the ground again; hands over their heads until the noise disappeared again. The brigade was practically on their demolished set by now, and there was no chance in hell they were surviving the next go around— too many people had died and there was nothing left to block them from the line of fire.

Scarlett stayed frozen belly-up on the ground even after the gunfire had ceased, her wide eyes darting about the cloudless sky above as her body trembled violently. Gary was dead. So was Ron, and Melissa, and so many others she knew. She didn't move again until Maggie grasped her hands and pulled her back up, a mangled noise of agony leaving her throat.

She would soon pass out from the pain. She could sense it. And so, quite easily, she whispered; "Go."

Maggie narrowed her eyes at her incredulously, breathing just as heavily. "I'm takin' you with me."

     The statement baffled her. She was a stranger... they'd met an hour ago and they were in a life or death situation. Why on earth would she risk it for her? She blinked. "Why?"

     "You really wanna debate ethical dilemmas right now?" Maggie huffed, raising her brows as more screams and wails and howls blared around them. "Come on. The parking lot is their main focus right now, it's where everyone is. Going over there is a death sentence, and we're not going unnoticed in a pickup truck haulin' a trailer."

     And with that, she stood up behind the protection of the large horse; glancing cautiously around before bending back down and wrapping an arm around Scarlett's waist, hoisting her up. The blonde groaned weakly, grinding her teeth as she leaned into the woman. A small whimper left her lips when she looked down to see how her half-numb, half-searing leg rested pendulously against the dirt. Maybe her hip was dislocated too. It was hard to reconcile anything among the pain.

     "Step on my knee." the Greene girl urged as she knelt on the dirt, keeping one leg propped up for Scarlett to use as a mount. "Hurry!"

     She took a deep breath and latched both hands onto the saddle, unable to conceal a bloodcurdling scream as she adjusted her weight onto her injured leg and used her good one to push off of Maggie's knee; pulling herself up with what little muscle her bony arms had. When she made it halfway, the brunette stood and shoved her she rest of the way onto the animal; soon leaping on for herself with a grunt. Scarlett teetered unsteadily where she sat, legs straddling the animal as she tried to blink away the stars in her vision. She felt Maggie grab her arms and force them around her waist, sitting in front of her.

"You hold onto me tight and you do not let go. Understand?" she commanded sternly. The southern accent wasn't only used for charm, apparently, because even through her daze, Scarlett understood perfectly.

With a loud hee ya and the snap of the reigns, Nelly was taking off; Scarlett yelping when she nearly went flying off the back. Immediately, her shaking arms tightened around Maggie's waist and she let her heavy head fall against the younger girl's back; clutching on for dear life.

She had meant it when she said hold on tight.

Under the girl's orders, Nelly leapt over the short fence and out of the round pen; taking off in the opposite direction. Scarlett was surely squeezing the air from Maggie's lungs, but she couldn't consider that now. Her eyelids were half-closed and involuntary tears were forming in her eyes from the sheer velocity of the wind the magnificent creature's canter was creating. She hadn't asked any questions, like, where are we going, or, do you know how to get there on horseback? There hadn't been time.

     Gripping onto the woman she had just met and knew nothing about, doing her best to stay on a galloping animal she'd never seen in person until an hour ago, Scarlett stole a final glance over her shoulder as the last bevy of bullets went pummeling into whatever was left of the set and its people. She gazed out at the devastating scene, tainted by the kiss of death, watching in shock and silence as she rode rapidly away from the only life she'd ever known.

     Looks like Maggie wouldn't be coming back home empty-handed for her little sister after all.

cam speaks!  

HI MY LOVLIES!
HOW IS EVERYONE TODAY?

quick question for you all/ wanting your
opinions on something!!

so as of right now, here's the plan in terms of
romantic relationships for this story.
- eva x glenn
- phoebe x devery (they're both ocs)
- and then potentially a few small, surprise
relationships i might do with other
ocs x twd characters

my question is about scarlett.
originally, i had it set up for it to be her and
daryl, but lately i've been getting nervous about that.
i genuinely don't have a clue how to write daryl
in a romantic relationship. like, i'm not sure i could
pull it off successfully and i want the story to be
true to the twd characters. it would be crazy slow
burn, but i honestly just wanted y'all's thoughts on
it before completely pulling the trigger.
do y'all think it can be done? do y'all think it's even
worth doing, or should i explore the idea of making
her and daryl's platonic relationship SUPER
important and doing an insanely long slow burn
for her and rick? I am really interested in both
options but feel it might make more sense
and help the integrity of the characters & story
to do her and rick, but also her and daryl ahhhhhhh.
it's also scary bc rick is in literally every scene and i
don't know if i'll be as good at writing him.
what would you all rather see?
(they would both be very long slow burns regardless)
pick! <3

thanks for reading all that & this chapter!!
love u all!!
mwah!!

xoxo,
cam

word count   5,058